It was possible the result of four days of excessive heat, indoor bound, clad only in pyjamas even for the infrequent exploits into the front yard to have a water fight, and except for when they removed their wet pyjamas so they could be replaced with dry pyjamas that did it.
Or maybe it’s because they are kids and it is school holidays.
Or the fact that they are children is enough for the descent into madness that occurred this evening.
Monkey Boy of the newly-teenaged years has been inflicted with a severe case of inability to listen and basically didn’t listen to a damn thing I said all day. This resulted in a) him continuing to do everything I told him to stop doing and b) doing the opposite or something completely random or unrelated to whatever it was I had asked him to do.
By the time dinner was complete and the dishes were being done, Monkey Boy was bouncing around the couch, Chippie was yelling “MY NAME IS NOT CHIPPIE! MY NAME IS DIM SIM. I AM A DRAGON!” and Godzilla was asking the incessant “How come they don’t have to help with the dishes?”
None of which was helping my mood and the latter, unrelenting query was obstructing my ability to get the other two to help.
I found myself calling “DIM SIM! Come and help!” which sent the other two into hysterics.
Monkey Boy commenced calling Chippie/Dim Sim “Chippie” in a bid to cause more yelling and screaming from the tiny dragon wafting around my kitchen, hitting everyone with a tea towel.
Indeed, he did scream “I NOT CHIPPIE!” to which Monkey Boy replied “I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to the invisible person behind you.”
Chippie turned to look and, confused, yelled at his older brother, “What? There’s not invisible person behind me! I can’t see him!”
Cue more laughter, including from me. I realised I had lost control of the situation and just went with the flow.
Chippie extracted the largest chopping board we own from the dish rack, incensed and barely able to hold it’s weight, began hitting Monkey Boy with it. During this process he loudly proclaimed “I’m not hitting you. Is the invisible person hitting you!”
I left the room, my mind no longer able to cope with the antics. Also, I had finished my part of the washing up. That there was still a mountain of drying to do was not my problem.
I attempted to retire to my bedroom to pack for tomorrow’s trip to Sydney and the Kids Business Bloggers BBQ. I was still undecided about what to wear, although I had managed to find time to have my legs waxed and purchase a bra for the dress I had initially selected.
Earlier in the day, I’d also asked the kids for their opinion on which shoes to wear ….
“I dunno,” says Monkey Boy, my child who is usually the best chooser of clothing and shoes for me, and the most honest, even if he does lack tact.
“They both look the same to me,” he tells me.
I sigh. I’ve lost him to manhood. I am sad.
Having left the kids to their job, however, I donned my planned outfit for tomorrow and wandered out to Grumpy Pants, lying on the couch. Despite knowing I wasn’t going to get a great response, I asked anyway.
With my two choices of shoes on display, one on each foot, I ask “Which shoes?”
“Yeah, they look great,” he tells me.
“You didn’t look, did you?” I ask. Well, it’s really more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah, I did. Go with them.”
“Um … they’re two different shoes,” I point out.
I give up and conclude my packing before flopping on the couch and trying to ignore the chaos in the kitchen.
The kids, allegedly finished but I doubt it, all swarm in to the lounge room, Monkey Boy bouncing on the couch again, and Godzilla flopping on my with all his sharp, pointy joints.
Chippie runs in, pulls his pants down and flashes his bum in Monkey Boy’s face.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he yells to get his older sibling’s attention.
“Look! Mirror!” he yells when he has it.
I leave the room where I convulse with mirth.
I think I may have to go to bed.